


Trans Lifeline Charity Fic

by CharityOkay



Category: Banjo-Kazooie Series
Genre: Adultery, Alcoholism, Arson, I know absolutely nothing about Banjo-Kazooie I'm sorry, Multi, This is a donation incentive fanfiction for a fundraising stream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 22:56:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20732078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharityOkay/pseuds/CharityOkay
Summary: In which people donated $400USD to charity and two friends co-wrote a horrifying fic about Kazooie and Banjo's open relationship and Kazooie's lack of self esteem.Chapter 1 by HostileV, Chapters 2 & 3 by Kathy, Chapter 4 by HostileV





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Millionsandwiches](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Millionsandwiches).

“So why don’t I see you two around as much” said Bottles, sipping from a tall glass of iced tea. Banjo stirred his own languidly, mixing far too much sugar into his cup as he just shrugged dismissively.

“Do you mean as like a couple, or,” said Banjo.

“No, I mean whenever I invite you over it’s only you who shows up, not Kazooie. We’re not the -best- friends, and she’s a very…small doses kind of friend, I guess. But I do appreciate the two of you, I mean. You both mean a lot to me.”

“Well, look. She’s been…busy.”

“Oh yeah?” Bottles opened a bag of chips. “What’s she been up to then. I know your schedule.”

“I really don’t know how to tell you this, Bottles.” Banjo said with a quiet grimace. “And, like, I don’t want to tell you something I don’t want you to make a big deal over.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s been seeing someone else and it’s been really weird.” Banjo said, finishing the rest of his iced tea, undissolved sugar crashing against his teeth like a sand dune in the winds.

“You two are polyamorous?” He refilled Banjo’s cup.

“We, y’know, we talk about what we’re up to. Anyway. Yeah that’s the gist of it.”

“Huh. Well, what about you, what’re you up to in that arena.”

“Not a hell of a lot because Kazooie keeps making this weird.”

“You sound like you really need to talk about it.” Bottles placed a hand on Banjo’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“Look. I want to make sure you don’t get mad.”

“Is Kazooie banging my wife behind my back.”

Banjo’s jaw dropped. 

“Wow. Uh. Okay. Good guess but no.”

“…Wait what do you mean good guess?”

“She’s kind of banging Jamjar’s wife.”

Bottles grip on his cup faltered. 

“Jamjar’s wife?!”

“Yeah please keep it down.”

“Does she have a death wish?” Bottles scuttled over to the door to his lounge, making sure they were all shut and making sure the kids were out of earshot.

“Kind of? You know her. She just decided she wanted the thrill of knowing that he could be away on duty and she could be making sure Jamjar’s wife doesn’t miss him.”

“How?! How the hell?”

“It started off as a joke because she likes ironic and funny things on social media. Bootlicker this, direct-action that, but then she just. Started seriously considering it? She’s just in love with the idea of ruining his marriage because he’s been a dick to her.”

“Banjo this is seriously messed up, Jamjar might lose his shit if he finds out.”

“How the hell do you think I feel? I’m not, like, good friends with the guy.” Banjo sighed. “And I just. I just legitimately fear one day Jamjar will come back and she’ll be pregnant and it’ll be Kazooie’s.”

“Banjo you’re increasingly telling me things I don’t need answers to.”

“Well. Welcome to my life, Bottles.” Banjo shook his head. “Welcome to my life.”

“So, what are you planning on doing about it?” Bottles sighed.

“I would be a hypocrite if I was to tell her what to do after we had this whole conversation about, like, letting each other know about what we do. So, I’m really at a loss. I can’t make her stop. That’s part of who she is and why I love her. But I don’t want her to just violently court self-destruction with this. That’s not what love is and what our relationship is about.”

“Well. I promise I won’t bring this up. This isn’t really my place to tell anyone about any of this, I’ll be cool for you” said Bottles. “…just please keep Kazooie away from my wife.”

“Oh yeah that won’t be a problem.”

“Okay good.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, written by Kathy.

Kazooie took a deep drag from her cigar, pulling her robe closed. Jamjar's wife snored gently on the faux bearskin rug.

A spark of introspection wandered through Kazooie's mind as she blew out a smoke ring. Was it tasteless to bang their friend's wife on that rug? Absolutely.

Did she care?

Oh, absolutely not.

Jamjar had shit taste in alcohol. His wife had a bottle of cognac squirreled away, but Kazooie had long since replaced that with old tea.

Reduced to this. A goon bag on the balcony, while she stared up at the full moon.

Banjo wasn't here to hold her back.

He was such a nice boy.

Wasn't he tired of being nice?

No. Of course not. He was always doing his damn best.

The bagged wine tasted like vinegar and depression. Kazooie looked over the edge, at the pristine, spartan lawn.

Lawns. What a waste.

It'd be a shame if something happened to it.

500ml goes a hell of a way. And, wouldn't you know it, she was real clumsy.

The flames were so beautiful.

Banjo would be disappointed. But in that annoying, supportive way. He'd look at her with those big, baby blue eyes. Maybe he'd cry a bit. And tell he he believed in her.

What a waste.

Jamjar's wife stirred behind her, muttering something about the chill. Kazooie closed the balcony doors, and stepped up on railing.

The breeze ruffled her feathers, and she stared down into the flames.

They grew closer.

Her eyes, shut. A quick exhale. Pulling up, and soaring off into the air. The tie of her robe fluttering off into the sky, and the scent of burning yolk lingering behind her.

Banjo would be so disappointed. But that's nothing new.

Maybe she could get a laugh out of Bottles wife, though.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 by Kathy

"Kazooie. Are you busy?"

Kazooie looked up from the fridge, three jellied herrings jammed in her beak and a jar of pickled onions tucked under one wing.

"Maybe," she replied around the fish, before tipping her head back and swallowing her snack. "Maybe not. Who's asking."

"M....me? I am," Banjo said, frowning. "Why? Is someone else here?"

Kazooie opened the jar of picked onions and sculled down the vinegar within.

"Maybe," she replied, again. She looked cornered, and defensive.

Banjo sighed.

She'd been like this for weeks. Ever since.

Ever since Bottles' wife, Wine, started coming over for poker nights.

"Kazooie, you know. You know I don't, mind, when you have company over. We agreed, it's okay. You don't need to be cagey about it."

"What if I want to be cagey about it?" Kazooie put the now drained jar back in the fridge and hip checked it closed. Banjo's fingers twitched by his sides.

"Well, that's your choice, I'm just a little sad you feel like you need to hide things from me."

"Don't do that. You know I hate it when you do that. Don't make it weird."

"Sorry, I'm the one making it weird here?"

"Yeah." The way she looked at him cut him to the core. Frustration, annoyance. Maybe she was right? But.

"Kazooie. Talk to me. Are you unhappy?"

She turned away from him, and braced herself on the kitchen counter.

"Maybe." Before he could object, she shook her head. "I'm not being coy. I don't know. Maybe I am."

"It feels like you don't like me anymore."

"What? No." That got her attention, and she dragged a wing over her beak. It was shaking. "Of course I like you, Banjo. I'm a free bird. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

"So what's wrong? You've been so distant, and. Look, I don't mind if you see other people. I don't mind if you love other people. I just wish you'd use the guest room and that you didn't-"

"Bottles did that to his own damn self, Banjo, and you know it. Wine made the first move."

Banjo's shoulders slumped.

"You're right. I just. I made a promise, Kazooie."

"Wasn't your promise to make." She pushed away from the counter and wrapped her wings around him. "Banjo. I'm not unhappy with you. I'm unhappy with me. You think I don't know that you deserve better?"

"What?"

"I'm a fucking disaster, not to put too fine a point on it. And you, you're a ray of sunshine. Everyone loves you. Everyone knows that without you I'd probably have three ASBO's to my name."

"Everyone loves you too!"

Her laugh was more of a screech.

"Sure they do, buddy."

"Really! They do!" Banjo put his paws on her shoulders. "Kazooie, why didn't you tell me you'd been struggling with this?"

"Because I didn't want to disappoint you. Because I didn't want you to look at me like this. Because maybe I wanted you to leave me, so I'd have an excuse to be a piece of shit for once."

"The only way you could disappoint me is by not letting me help you." He let her go. "Now, go on. Wine and Jellyjar are waiting."

"You knew?"

"Kazooie. I'm a bear. Of course I knew."

"You're the best, Banjo."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 by HostileV

“So, what’s on the grill,” said Kazooie, adjusting her one-piece lazily.

“Hot dogs, burgers, polish sausage and kababs. Vegan and with chicken. Bottles brought chicken wings.” Banjo muttered, at eye-level with the pilot light of the grill, fussing with the propane tank’s valves.

“Bottles can cook chicken?” Kazooie said.

“Bottles can buy chicken wings from the deli and say he cooked them, yes.” Banjo struck a match and grinned wide as the fire crackled to life.

It was pretty brisk but that was a hazard with being at the seaside in early September. The gathering had the beach to themselves but the wind was a little too harsh of a trade-off. Bottles’ kids idly milled around the water’s edge, unable to pull the trigger and actually commit to taking a dip. Wine and Jellyjar were doing their best to get some sun. Bottles was insistent on making his own adjustments to the potato salad. This mostly consisted of adding more salt or more mayo, taking a taste, clucking his tongue and making another adjustment. Banjo rubbed his paws together, adjusted his “I SURVIVED DANGER DAN’S BRATPOCALYPSE” apron and began the process of fussing over the meat.

“You could just let ‘em cook.” Mumbled Kazooie as she took a sip from Banjo’s iced tea.

“Yes, yes I could.” Banjo tilted the straw of his cup for Kazooie’s easier access. “But if something is worth doing, it’s worth doing right.”

Bottles’ kids had found rocks and some driftwood. They were naturally whipping the rocks at each other and trying to hit them with the driftwood, making a poor man’s beachside baseball with more contusions and screaming children. Bottles rushed down to the shore to tend to them. Kazooie slipped off to the side and promptly hid the mole’s mayo and salt. Banjo rolled his eyes, unable to hide the smile.

They stood for a while, side-by-side, serenaded by the sizzle of the meat. Banjo took a deep breath, his ursine senses flaring as he lived deep in the moment, feeling the heat and the raw delicious smells guiding his cooking hand. In no time the dogs were juicy and plump, the burgers a delightful medium-rare and the kababs were sizzling nicely. Kazooie watched him quietly. He wasn’t like this often. Grilling and barbeque was something special to him, something sacred. It was almost awe-inspiring to watch him, to shine a light on his deeper soul.

“Okay?”

“What?” she said, snapping her head up and focusing her gaze on him.

“Are we okay.” Banjo said, one hand on the spatula and the other on her shoulder. She hadn’t even noticed he had his hand on her. She had just been so deep in thought.

“You’re doing this now?”

Banjo shrugged. “Yeah.”

“…” Kazooie leaned down, took another sip to calm herself, to center herself. “…yeah. Yeah. I think we’re okay. If you do.”

Banjo scooped up a sausage and layered it in some pickled onions before placing it on a bun and handing it over to her. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Okay. I guess we’re okay.”


End file.
